Kiss the Lead Singer
by Kuraime
Summary: In a place where anything can happen, Ryou learns the laws of love and hate the hard way...through blood and music. [Shounen-Ai]
1. Painless

**Author's Notes: Language!**

_Adrenaline's running through my head._

_There's no drugs involved, but they still_

_See it as some kind of illegal ecstasy._

_I've watched them all stare, some even laugh,_

_Or snicker. This is just another way to make me_

_Feel alive, revived, by nature's liquor_.

"I want to help you, is that so hard to understand? I just want to be there for you, I don't mean to make things wor-" The blonde speaker throws his hands up, exasperated. "Though I really don't see how I make things worse! I mean all I've ever done is be there for you. I've never doubted you, never wronged you…why can't you just see, I'm on YOUR side?"

_[Chorus]_

_Oh let me bleed_

_It's painless, really._

_Just let me die_

_Cause I'm so tired of_

_All these voices_

Willing me to break 

_And I'm so tired of_

_Having to live my life_

_A lie._

"On my side…? My SIDE? I really wish I could believe you…but it's hard to trust someone who doesn't understand a _goddamn fucking thing_ about WHAT they're talking about! Don't talk as if you can even IMAGINE my crappy life. You can't! You don't know how it is to live every single fucking day like THIS. I- ARGH!" The second speaker finishes and attaches his hands to his arms crossed over his chest. "I can't…I don't, I mean…I…" His voice softens for a moment. He's no longer sure what to say.__

_It never leaves me_

_It's always on my mind_

_It's a curse, haunting me_

_Everyday of my damned life._

_[Chorus]_

The blonde continues once his partner is quiet. "Look, don't do this…not after all I've done to help you. I've tired so hard, but you don't care, right? I don't know why I haven't given up already-!" He sighs heavily, eyes weary with the sudden impact of realization. "But I can't give up on you. I truly want to help you out of this…can't you let me do that? Let me help you-" He takes a step closer to the other young man, hand out-stretched in a pleading way.

_Just want to watch it run_

_(Let me die)_

_There's no better feeling_

_(Just let me go)_

_There's no better way_

_(I'm so tired)_

_To mend my broken soul._

_[Chorus]_

There is silence.

"You…don't care." A raspy voice escapes the lips of the idiot on the floor as he rejects the other's offer. He seems to be unsure of what he wants to say, and just goes with what's on the top of his mind. "I don't believe you. All you ever wanted to do was make my life as miserable as the others…all you ever did was try to, to change me…" He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. "Well, it's not going to work. I'm not going to be indebted into your 'help' when I can get out of this ALONE." His eyes flicker as they reopen. "I don't NEED you! I can get through this on my own…just WATCH ME." Fisting one hand, the speaker glares as the blonde steps backwards. Without a second thought, the speaker turns his back to the other. "I don't need you. I never did."

_It'll be painless_

_(really)_

_No, you're not to blame_

_(It'll be painless)_

_I'm telling you_

_It'll be okay_

_It's not your problem_

_(You're not the one-)_

_To blame. I'm telling you_

_I'll be okay. I'll be okay._

The blonde showed his emotion in his eyes. Emptiness. Thoughts jolted all over his head, like lightning tearing apart his mind. He simply couldn't concentrate on anything. Those three words…

'I never did.'

"I…you never did. Never needed me. Never _wanted_ me either, did'ja? Am I just another idiot following you around like, like…some crazed fanatic?! Was I just another one-night stand? Maybe one-night turned into a few months, but who really gives a shit, right? Forget it, then! I'm through with this…I can't take YOU anymore!" With this, he too turned his back on the opposing figure.

With emotionless blue eyes, Kaiba turned around to see what his opponent was doing. He shrugged and left the room without another word.

_I never needed you..._

Jounouchi stares at the ground, rubbing his arm as he murmured, "Oh yeah you did…you must've…because-" He pauses, thinking. "I needed you."


	2. How It All Started

**Chapter One:**

_How It All Started._

---

I'd been watching a spider for over an hour before Dr. Shiiro arrived. It wasn't boring, just very slow. I found the web immediately after the lady told me to 'sit tight' and wait for my therapist to be with me. She said it'd only be a few moments. When it became more then a few moments, I didn't mind. I was happy to sit here and watch the spider contribute to its web. The spider was odd, however. It wasn't your average daddy long legs. It was white and short-legged. I'd never seen a spider like that, but I wasn't scared.

There are scarier things out there. Way scarier.

While I was waiting, I became amused by how easily and quickly the spider moved through the sticky web, without a fear of getting stuck. By the time the spider completed its trap, Dr. Shiiro walked in. I knew he was here before he actually greeted me; the sounds of the door opening and closing alerted me. Dr. Shiiro sat down in front of his desk and folded his hands in front of him, leaning towards me. He's an old man with graying hair and a few extra pounds, so I like to think his name fits him. He greets me and I acknowledge it with a nod of my head. I'm never in a talkative mood. My arms hurt, especially my wrists.

He asks me how my day's going. I shrug in response. Dr. Shiiro has been my therapist for nearly two months and he hasn't gotten any further in 'correcting' me. He once told me it was perfectly normal, that sometimes people need years of therapy to get better. I couldn't understand what he meant by getting 'better'. I'm not retarded or ill and I'm certainly not crazy, but apparently since foster care sent me to his office, there has to be something wrong with me.

There's the problem. They think it's me that's messed up. Well, they're wrong, to put it bluntly. 

Of course, when you happen to look almost exactly like the culprit, it's hard to explain how it couldn't be you. I hadn't protested when foster care scheduled me for three sessions a week at Dr. Shiiro's. I guess it's because I liked coming here.

I figure I'm safer here at Dr. Shiiro's than back there in foster care main central. It's just like an orphanage, though probably more crowded. I often wonder why foster care keeps sending me to Dr. Shiiro's if I'm apparently 'not making progress'. Perhaps it's because he's requesting they do so. Perhaps I really do have issues. Though I'm not the one giving myself these scars. It's not my fault that I have spasms of paranoia or that I have insomnia, or even that I faint out of nowhere. None of it was my idea.

However, nobody can see that. I doubt anybody ever will. I haven't told anyone and they obviously won't figure it out themselves. I hadn't expected a miracle by coming to Dr. Shiiro's anyway.

I suddenly notice Dr. Shiiro's begun to talk about a place he wants me to go. At least for a week, he says. If I like it, good, then I can stay as long as needed. IF I didn't, well, they'd just find something else that will work for me.

The latter meant they'd get frustrated and pack me into group therapy for the next two months. Dr. Shiiro explained he'd sent many of his more intriguing cases (what a nice way to say his more impossible cases) to this place and that it had helped. The overnight stays appeal to me. It means I don't have to go back to foster care central. I'd be away from him. From my other half…

Immediately I agree to go. Dr. Shiiro seems pleased. He tells me that I leave tomorrow, so I'd better pack my things today. He even says he'll drive me there himself, and it makes me feel a little happier. Although I've rarely spoken more then a few sentences in our sessions, I like Dr. Shiiro. He's very king and patient and he's never raised his voice to me. When Dr. Shiiro tells me our session is over for the day, I'm disappointed. I didn't get to tell him that I have a few new scars to show him. Or that he has a spider web at his window and it'll soon be devouring innocent flies.

Then again, as I think about it, I decide he probably wouldn't care.


	3. The Private Bathroom

**Chapter 2:**

_The Private Bathroom_

---

I was done packing two hours earlier then the time Dr. Shiiro would pick me up. The Wednesday office lady (there's a different one for every three days) had smiled at me as I took an empty chair and set my lone backpack between my feet. I tried to smile back, but I couldn't find it in me. I assumed my nervous system was busy sending waves of pain to my head, pain located in my chest. I probably should've asked the nurse in the green skirt (I had figured that since she worked part-time, there'd been no point in giving her an actual nurse uniform) for some kind of ointment, maybe some mineral ice or something, but I hadn't wanted to stop packing my things.

I didn't think much while I was packing, that is, until he came. Everyone else had been at breakfast during the time, so nobody saw him. I had expected something like this to happen, so maybe I should've been smart and just gone to eat with the rest of them. He had come to know why I was packing. I hadn't known what to tell him.

I couldn't allow myself the time to think about my answer. I left my mind blank because of his ability to read my thoughts. I knew that he'd get mad at me for leaving. It didn't matter that I'd probably be gone for only a few days, a week at most; he'd still have seen it as something 'too good' for me.

He got mad when I didn't answer, so he launched a punch to my best. I lurched forward, clutching myself and unable to breathe. It didn't matter that he hit my chest, not my stomach; the effect had been the same.

He asked me again where I thought I was going. I told him that foster care was sending me to some place for a little while. He sneered and demanded to know what for. I told him that they wanted to give my bed to someone else for a while, and that in the meantime they figured I could use some physical therapy. My answer hadn't satisfied him, but he was silent. I couldn't understand why; a part of me wanted to believe he really believed me. I didn't dare to think about it, though. I never let myself think about anything for very long when I'm with him. Which is probably where all my impaired judgment comes from.

Breakfast had by then ended, and so everyone started to head back. He left immediately, leaving me in peace. I never talked to anyone from foster care, and they never talked to me, so my leave wasn't noticed.

It was than that I'd checked my clock and found I was still two hours early. Dr. Shiiro told me he'd come by at ten, and it was still eight. I decided I couldn't wait two hours alone, so I got my bag and headed for the main office. At foster care, they really don't give a crap what you do, as long as you're quiet and don't make distractions for the workers. I'd figured that since I had an excuse (I was waiting for someone to pick me up) I could wait at the office for the remaining two hours. I'd been right.

But I'd been wrong about _him_ not bothering me. Ten minutes had gone by as I'd stared at my shoes and listened to the Wednesday office lady type. Suddenly, a voice whispers into my head. Although he (the other me) can read my thoughts entirely while we're in the same room, it becomes harder and harder for him to understand me when we're farther apart. I can't read his thoughts at all, so the distance isn't much different for me than from just standing next to him. Speaking to me through our 'connection' is another thing entirely; while I cannot do the same for him, he can be on the other side of the world and talk to me clearly. He just can't see what I can, or feel what I feel.

Anyway, he'd told me that I could've leave without my good-bye gift. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat at his tone. The Wednesday office lady hadn't noticed. I couldn't just ignore his voice, however. He told me to meet him in the bathroom. I remember flinching, understanding what he meant, or what he wanted.

As if my body was connected to strings, I stood up. Sometimes I don't know if he can just control my body and makes me do these things, or if I'm really the one who agrees to it. Either way, I answered his call. The Wednesday office lady noticed me now, and looking up from her computer, asked me if I needed something. I asked her to watch my backpack for me while I went to the bathroom. She nodded, but motion behind her. The regular bathrooms are down for repair, she'd said, but you can go use the private ones upstairs. My heart ripped at the 'favor'.

I wondered if he knew about this. There was no chance someone would 'walk in' on us in the private bathrooms.

When I reached the bathroom, I found it empty. Nobody was around and I felt that the entire floor was abandoned for his amusement. It wasn't the first time I've gone through things like this, but it's not a thing you get used to. I always have the same feeling of fear and loneliness before it all begins. It never quite goes away, either. This day had been an especially tormenting session, probably because it would've been my last before a week free of pain.

The bathroom was small and designed to be unisexual; meaning there was both a urinal and a toilet. The sink and the cabinet were on top of each other in the far side. My shoulders tensed as I waited. I thought about the possibility that he was already here, but bidding his time till the right moment, when he can catch me at my peak of fear. I took a step forward towards the sink, when something hurled me backward right into the urinal. My back slammed hard against it, I felt the warmth of rushing blood raise as my shoulder blades rubbed together. Something, most undoubtfully we all know who, forced me to balance on the urinal while my legs were shoved apart. I could hardly see the lights since his hands were gripping my face and hair, shoving my face to his in a rough kiss. He let his hands fall down to my chest and began undoing my clothes as his nails dug into my skin. Something had told me that I'd be bruised badly after this. I could do nothing but squirm.

He'd obviously shown up. He hadn't even been daunted by the change of bathrooms. I bet he rather liked the idea. Nobody had been given the chance to interrupt him, to stop him.

I don't like recalling memories of anything he's done to me. I don't like to remember them at all, and I especially don't want to recall what he did to me before I'd left foster care central. When he finally let me go (more like when he pushed me out the door and walked over me as I struggled to stand), I looked down at my watch to see I had spent only ten minutes in all the seven hells.

I shut my eyes tightly and pushed myself up. Supported by a drinking fountain, I waited until I was steady on my feet to bend down and drink. A part of me had wanted to drench my hands in the water and rub my thighs, to relieve myself of the burn. Having known that I couldn't just pull my pants down and do that, I resorted to settling with just a drink. As I made my way down the stairs, every step was another dose of pain. Every step was like pressing a hot iron to my body, like ripping my soul apart and squashing it back together, even when I lifted my foot. I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done. Every single moment of agony replayed itself in my mind, so that by the time I reached the office, I was near tears.

Determined not to cry in front of the Wednesday office lady, I made my way to my chair and sat down as normally as I could. That was probably the hardest part, forcing myself not to tremble as I lowered myself into the chair.

I had waited for about five minutes when a middle-aged woman walked over to the Thursday office lady. I couldn't hear what they were talking about, so I lowered my head and closed my eyes for a rest. A few tears escaped me. Just as I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, someone tapped my shoulder. I didn't look up, but the person spoke anyway. "Hello there, Bakura. My name is Keiko and I'll be taking you to Open Arms."

I had no idea what Open Arms was, but her voice had been so kind and gentle, I couldn't resist the urge to look at her. She was pretty, even if she seemed in her early forties. She was the lady who had just walked in, I noticed. Something then triggered in my memory. "Wasn't Dr. Shiiro going to take me to that place?" I assumed Open Arms was the name of the place I was supposed to be leaving for, but I contradicted myself because I was certain that Dr. Shiiro wouldn't have lied to me. He said he'd take me, and I trusted him.

Keiko's eyes softened, and I wanted her to take her hand off my shoulder. Her grip tightened as she spoke. I grit my teeth, feeling trapped all over again. "He wanted to, but I'm afraid that he couldn't make it, Bakura. So he sent me, a while earlier I'll admit, but you're already packed and ready to go, aren't you? Don't worry sweetie, everything will be okay."

She called me sweetie. Nobody had given me a term of endearment since my own father, but he died a while ago. I didn't believe her last comment, but I didn't complain anymore. Of course Dr. Shiiro wouldn't have been able to come, I reasoned with myself. I should've known better than to convince myself on a whim.

I stood up and swung my backpack over my shoulder, ready to leave here. Keiko kept her hand on my shoulder the entire way to the car. I cringed and squirmed, hoping she'd take the hint, but she didn't. We didn't talk much on the way to Open Arms.

But her words repeated themselves many times.

_Everything will be okay_.


End file.
